The Warlord Comes Home

Chapter 004

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating, tomb-like silence descending upon the living room of the Lynn estate.

The violence had been a blur, a whirlwind of kinetic energy that defied the laws of physics. One moment, a dozen grown men were charging with weapons raised; the next, they were airborne, their bodies rag-dolling through the air as if struck by an invisible locomotive.

Thud. Thud. Crunch.

The bodies hit the floor in quick succession. They didn't get up. They didn't even groan. Twelve of the Sterling Family’s most brutal enforcers lay in twisted heaps, limbs bent at impossible angles, weapons scattered like toys. Their chests rose and fell in shallow rhythms, indicating they were alive, but barely.

Standing amidst the carnage, her back to Conrad, was a woman.

She was an apparition of darkness. She wore a tight black leather jacket that gleamed under the shattered chandelier light, black combat trousers, and heavy boots. Her long black hair flowed down her back like a waterfall of ink. She stood perfectly still, her breathing even, as if she hadn't just dismantled a paramilitary squad in under three seconds.

Slowly, she turned her head. A stray lock of hair fell away, revealing a profile of stunning, icy beauty. But it was her eyes that froze the blood in everyone's veins. Catching the dim light, they seemed to glow with a deep, crimson hue—the eyes of a predator that had waded through rivers of blood.

She looked at Marcus Sterling, who stood frozen with his mouth open, his expensive cigarette lighter slipping from his numb fingers and clattering onto the floor.

Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she human?

These questions raced through the minds of the Lynn family, but fear overrode them all. The brutality was surgical. It was professional. It was the kind of violence that existed only in nightmares or high-stakes action movies.

Caroline, Martha, and the Pierce sisters looked from the woman to Conrad with eyes wide as saucers. This terrifying valkyrie was clearly protecting him.

"You dare raise a hand against him?"

The woman’s voice was like liquid nitrogen—smooth, cold, and deadly. Her crimson eyes locked onto Marcus. "You must be tired of living."

"You... who are you?"

Marcus’s knees knocked together audibly. His bladder felt weak. For the first time in his pampered life, the spoiled heir of the Sterling Family felt the cold, undeniable grip of mortality. He realized, with sudden clarity, that his money and his name meant absolutely nothing to this woman. She would snap his neck as easily as she would a twig.

"Why are you here?"

Conrad’s voice broke the trance. He frowned, his expression one of mild annoyance rather than gratitude. He didn't turn around. "You're meddling. I told you to wait outside. Get out."

The family gasped. Caroline wanted to scream at him to shut up. He was scolding this demon? What if she turned on them? What if she killed them all in a fit of rage? You don't give orders to a force of nature!

But to everyone's absolute shock, Phoenix didn't get angry. She didn't argue. She lowered her head submissively, her terrifying aura vanishing instantly.

"Yes, sir."

Just like that, she vanished. She slipped into the shadows of the hallway and was gone as silently as she had arrived, leaving behind only the smell of ozone and fear.

Gulp.

The tension in the room didn't dissipate; it thickened. The way the Lynns looked at Conrad shifted tectonically. The disgust and disdain were gone, replaced by a confused mixture of awe, terror, and suspicion.

Marcus was shaking violently, sweat pouring down his face like rain. He understood hierarchy. One command, and the monster left. That meant she wasn't just an ally; she was a subordinate.

"Conrad... dear..." Martha Pierce forced a stiff, unnatural smile onto her face. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "That woman... does she work for you?"

Her sisters, Bella and Susan Pierce, leaned in, terrified. They remembered every insult they had hurled at him minutes ago. If Conrad commanded such power, they were in grave danger.

Conrad looked at them. He saw the gears turning in their heads. He couldn't tell them the truth—that he was the Supreme Commander of The Vanguard. It would put them in too much danger, and frankly, they wouldn't believe it. He needed a lie. A lie that fit their worldview.

"Mom, did she scare you?" Conrad helped Martha and Caroline sit down on the ruined sofa, smiling innocently. "She's... sort of a bodyguard. I'm a key witness in a major federal case."

"A witness?" Martha blinked.

"Yes," Conrad continued smoothly. "I saw something I shouldn't have five years ago. That's why I disappeared. Now the government needs my testimony, so they assigned her to keep me alive until the trial."

"Oh! A witness protection program!" Susan Pierce exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"I knew it! I knew Conrad couldn't afford a bodyguard like that," Bella sighed in relief, clutching her chest. "He's just mixed up in some legal trouble. That explains everything."

Relief washed over the room like a tidal wave. Martha laughed nervously. It made perfect sense to them. In the movies, the government always sent super-agents to protect witnesses. Conrad wasn't powerful; he was just lucky to be useful to the cops. He wasn't a warlord; he was a snitch. This explanation allowed them to maintain their internal narrative that Conrad was still beneath them, just a pawn in a larger game.

"A major case?" Caroline looked skeptical, but the logic held up better than any alternative. "Is that really where you've been for five years?"

"Something like that," Conrad lied.

He wasn't technically lying about the "case." He was hunting Specter, a global terrorist organization. He just omitted the part where he was the hunter, not the hunted.

Seeing the family distracted by their own rationalizations, Marcus Sterling saw an opening. He tried to inch toward the door, moving his feet silently across the carpet. He needed to escape. He needed to tell Isabella that Conrad had government protection.

He took one quiet step.

A hand landed lightly on his shoulder.

"Master Sterling, going somewhere?"

Conrad’s voice was pleasant, polite even. But to Marcus, it hit like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Thud.

Marcus collapsed. His legs turned to jelly, refusing to support his weight. He fell to the floor in a heap.

"Misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!" Marcus squealed, looking up at Conrad with tear-filled eyes. The arrogance of the Sterling heir was gone, replaced by the pathetic whimper of a trapped rodent.

"Oh? A misunderstanding?" Conrad crouched down, bringing his face level with Marcus. His smile didn't reach his eyes. It was a cold, dead expression. "Isn't Isabella Sterling your sister?"

"We aren't close! Just cousins! Distant cousins!" Marcus stammered, willing to disown his own bloodline to survive the next five minutes.

"Didn't you come here to kidnap me?"

"No! Never! I came to invite you for drinks! There's a new club at the Bay Area—very exclusive—"

"You also told me to kneel and kowtow."

Conrad didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Before Conrad could finish his sentence, Marcus threw himself onto his hands and knees. He smashed his forehead against the hardwood floorboards three times. Hard.

The sound echoed through the room. When Marcus looked up, his forehead was a bloody mess, skin split open, blood trickling into his eyes.

"Brother, please! I was wrong! I'm sorry! I'm a dog! I'm a worm!"

A sharp, acrid smell of ammonia filled the room. The Lynn family covered their noses, recoiling in disgust. Marcus Sterling had wet himself. A dark stain spread across the crotch of his expensive designer trousers.

Marcus knew things the others didn't. He knew the rumors of the underworld. He knew that the kind of bodyguard Conrad had—that woman—didn't belong to the police. She moved like an assassin. If Conrad commanded someone like that, Conrad was not someone the Sterlings could bully.

Conrad raised an eyebrow, looking at the puddles forming around Marcus's knees. I haven't even touched him yet.

He lost interest in the intimidation game. It was pathetic.

"I will ask you one more time," Conrad said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a rumble in his chest. "My father's illness. Did you do it?"

Killing intent flooded the room again. The air temperature seemed to drop, shadows lengthening in the corners of the room. It was a tangible pressure, weighing down on everyone's chest.

Julian Reed, standing near Caroline, felt a cold sweat break out on his back. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"No!" Marcus screamed without hesitation, his eyes wide with terror. "I swear on my life! I swear on the Sterling name! We destroyed the company, yes, but we didn't touch the old man! We didn't poison him!"

Julian let out a silent breath of relief, clutching Caroline’s hand a little tighter.

"Is that so?"

Conrad smiled. It was a demonic smile.

Suddenly, his hand shot out. He grabbed Marcus by the face, fingers digging into the flesh like steel claws. He lifted the grown man off the ground with one hand, effortlessly, as if Marcus weighed nothing more than a rag doll.

Then, with a casual motion, he slammed Marcus’s head into the wall.

CRACK!

The sound was sickening. Plaster cracked and dusted down onto Marcus's shoulders. Blood splattered against the white paint. Marcus’s face was a ruin of broken nose cartilage and split skin.

"Did you do it?" Conrad asked again. His tone was casual, as if asking about the weather.

Marcus groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, saliva mixing with blood at the corner of his mouth.

BAM!

Conrad slammed him into the wall again. The impact shook a painting loose from its hook nearby.

"The next time," Conrad whispered into Marcus's ear, "I'll use the iron doorframe. And I won't stop until your head looks like a smashed watermelon."

Marcus convulsed in terror. The pain cut through his fog. He realized this man would kill him. He would beat him into a pulp right here in this living room, in front of everyone, and he wouldn't even blink.

Caroline and Martha were shaking, too terrified to speak. They clutched each other, watching in horror as Marcus, the terrifying scion of the Sterling Family, was broken down into raw meat.

"Speak," Conrad commanded.

Marcus sobbed, his resistance shattered. "I... I didn't... but I know who did..."

With a trembling, bloody hand, Marcus raised his arm. He pointed a shaking finger across the room.

Directly at Julian Reed.

Every eye in the room turned to Caroline’s boyfriend.